Page 130 of Callan

Easier said than done.

Am I that crazy to snap a picture of him? He got mad when I tried to do that before.

I doubt he feels differently about it now.

My phone dings again.

Kayla:??? Are you doing it?

Me: Give me a second.

I turn my back to Callan and pretend I’m snapping a selfie, making sure the back of his shoulders and his hair are captured in my photograph.

I’m close to snapping the picture when my phone flies from my hand, and his eyes meet mine.

“I was taking a selfie,” I say in response to his stern look.

“No, you weren’t.”

“My friend wants to see you. I just told her about you. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

His eyebrows knit into a frown while he’s checking my phone.

“Your friend?”

“Yes. Kayla. She’s in New Jersey at her parents’ house. I told herthe story.”

“What story?”

I try to yank my phone out of his hand.

He moves his hand out of my reach.

“The story that I told Carmen. The one with the bum I met at the deli. Please give me my phone,” I say, holding my hand out.

“You’re lying to your friend?” he asks.

“To protect you.”

“To protect yourself. No pictures, Mackenzie,” he says seriously this time.

I take my phone back and shoot Kayla another message.

Me: I tried. Didn’t work. Sorry.

I press 'send' and turn my phone off before asking for another drink under his scrutinizing eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmurs before shifting his focus away.

The third drink is the best and swallows up all my worries. Soon after, my mood shifts, and I forget about the incident.

He has already forgotten about it.

More minutes pass before he brings his drink to his lips, tilts the glass, and swallows the amber liquid reflecting the lit candle on the counter.

“Everything all right?” he drawls, not looking at me but sensing my stare on him.

“Yes.”

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